


Told in Parables

by trill_gutterbug



Category: Tanis (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, aka cameron ellis roaring in there like a mama bear to deliver nic from ra-ra-rasputin, the direct aftermath of the s3 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trill_gutterbug/pseuds/trill_gutterbug
Summary: Nic hears the word, eventually: stop.Stop.“Stop!” Cameron Ellis yells.





	Told in Parables

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple months after first hearing the s3 finale, and then when I went back and re-listened to it later, I realised I had completely misremembered a few things, like Veronika and Paul being there, etc. But whatever! Let's just call it canon-compliantish? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Nic hears the word, eventually: stop _._

_Stop._

“Stop!” Cameron Ellis yells. He strides up out of the blurred dark like an old tv coming into focus. Warped and distant, swimming through static, the audio distorted, the picture wobbly. Then instantly sharp, immediate. The shape of his voice and his face brims with a startling animal life. He’s angry, Nic deduces. That’s what the twist of his lips means, the flash of his teeth, the jagged line of his brows.

Nic sways to a stop, because that’s what everyone else has done. “Hi,” he says.

Ellis doesn’t seem to hear. He shoves past the people between him and Nic, the Runner, and-- No. Veronika. The Father.

He shoves past them and grabs Nic by the arms. Nic’s feet slide in the dirt, but Ellis holds him upright. He ducks his head to peer into Nic’s eyes. “Nic,” he says. “Are you alright?”

Nic gazes back. He realises there is an urgency to Ellis’ question, to the firm way he is gripping Nic’s biceps, to the fierceness of his gaze. He doesn’t understand why. “I’m fine,” he says.

He sees, over Ellis’ shoulder, more people emerging from the darkness. People in black clothes, carrying flashlights. There are raised voices, the Runner-- Veronika-- Paul-- Shouting in languages Nic doesn’t understand. A scuffle, someone running--

Ellis looks back over his own shoulder, then steps sideways to block Nic’s view. “Everything’s under control,” he says. His hands loosen on Nic’s shoulders. “Nic? Can you hear me?”

Nic drags his eyes back to Ellis’. “I can hear you. Can you hear me?”

It seems loud. Is someone screaming?

Ellis smiles, just a bit. “Yes, Nic, I can hear you.” He raises one hand to touch Nic’s face. It feels nice, the way he lifts Nic’s left eyelid, his fingers cool. “Have you had anything to eat or drink?” he asks. “Did they give you anything?”

“Yes. I drank... something. Water.” He frowns. He’s not sure anymore.

Ellis nods. “Okay. That’s alright.”

“Am I in trouble?” It’s wrong, even as he says it. Not the right word.

“No, Nic. You’re not in trouble. But you are in danger, so I need you to come with me.”

Ellis drops his hands and takes hold of Nic’s wrist instead. Nic balks.

“No, I--” He shakes his head, trying to clear it. There’s something important going on. “I need to go, I need to…” He looks over Ellis’ shoulder again. The forest, the hill, the altar. He sees someone being led away with a bag over their head by the people in black. He sees Veronika held at bay by someone else with a big cudgel-shaped flashlight. She catches his eye.

“Nic!” she calls. “Don’t listen to him, you know better by now! You know what he’s capable of!” She’s forced back by the person in black, driven toward the forest, back down the hill. She shouts, half-turned, skidding in the dirt, “Nic, remember what I said!”

What had she said?

Nic looks up at Ellis. He’s staring back over his own shoulder, too, at Veronika. His brows are furrowed.

“I’m not supposed to trust you,” Nic tells him.

Ellis looks at him. He’s wearing a black jacket like the others, but it’s unzipped. He has a white pinstriped dress shirt on underneath, the collar open. “So I hear. What do you think, Nic? Do you trust me?”

Nic sways. Ellis’ hand tightens on his wrist. “I think…” He shuts his eyes. “Fuck,” he says under his breath. “I can’t think.”

“That’s alright.” Ellis’ voice is low, close. “You don’t need to right now. Come with us, we’ll go somewhere safe.”

Nic digs his heels in again. He opens his eyes. Ellis is staring at him. His hair is unkempt, windswept or maybe sleep-mussed. “Where?”

“To a hotel in town.”

“But…” God, it’s so hard to think. There’s more going on here, so many things Nic can’t gather the wits to wonder about, so many things just on the edge of his understanding. “Why are you here? What happened to-- what are you going to do to Veronika? And Paul?”

Ellis breathes, watches him. “Nothing,” he says at last. “They’ll be fine.”

“But why-- why did--” He grits his teeth. He feels angry. “Why are you here?”

Ellis meets his gaze, unblinking. “I’m here for you, Nic.”

~*~

He goes, in the end. There’s nothing else to do. Veronika and Paul and the Father are gone. He doesn’t know where they are, or how to get back down the mountain on his own. He can’t see the altar ahead through the trees anymore.

Ellis leads him through the woods. The people in black converge around them with their bright flashlights. Some of them, Nic thinks, stay behind. He protests that, asks what they’re doing, why can’t he stay, did they find the altar, what are they doing with it?

Ellis says, “I’m afraid I can’t let you stay here, Nic, it’s not safe,” and doesn’t answer when Nic asks why. Eventually, Nic stops asking.

~*~

He remembers his voice recorder by the time they get back to the road. He stops at the edge of the trees, pulling against Ellis’ hand, and fishes it out of his pocket. It’s shut off. He feels disappointed and frustrated about that.

“Nic?” Ellis says.

Nic shows him the recorder. “It’s off.”

“I see that.”

“I turned it on earlier.”

Ellis is quiet.

“Is this why I’m not supposed to have eletronics in the Breach?”

Ellis takes a breath. Nic can see the calculations going on behind his eyes, hear them in his voice. “Part of the reason, yes.”

Nic stares down at his recorder. He feels tired.

“I’m so fucking tired,” he says. “Of all of this.”

There’s a moment of silence. The black-jackets are waiting on the empty dark road ahead of them, spread out and silent. Probably not lab techs or research students, Nic thinks, bitter. And yet any one of them certainly knows more about this whole bullshit situation than he does, even though he’s spent the past three years of his life suffering and bleeding and maybe even dying for it.

“I understand,” says Ellis.

“I don’t think you do.”

Ellis’ hand is still on his wrist. He slides it down a bit farther and links his fingers between Nic’s. He tugs, pulling Nic up the gravel shoulder of the road onto the asphalt. “I do,” he says.

Nic glowers up at him. “You really don’t.”

“I understand what it feels like to be frustrated all the time,” Ellis says. “To have so many things beyond your control. To be scared and unsure and angry, but so curious, hungry for answers. Elated and overwhelmed all at once. I know.”

Nic snorts. “How could you possibly? All this shit you’re doing is what makes me feel that way.”

Slowly, Ellis smiles. His thumb strokes the inside curve of Nic’s wrist. “Because, Nic,” he says, “you’re the one who makes me feel that way too.”

 


End file.
